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Why Batman Is Secretly Terrible for Gotham -- powered by Cracked.com

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Somteimes I like to try my hand at photography. What does everyone think?

I Thought I Saw Your Face Today

Hey, Yeh Ren, maybe you can help me out. I could swear I've seen this girl somewhere before, any idea where that might be?

Yeah, I know. Not a lot going on in that video. I thought the same thing. Then I came across a second video. Just keep those hands above the covers, young man...

I don't know about you, but I want to put these on a DVD and watch it every Christmas.

Distant Camera

Each soul departing with its own isolation,
Strangest of all strange companions,
And best.

Medlars, sorb-apples,
More than sweet
Flux of autumn
Sucked out of your empty bladders.

And sipped down, perhaps, with a sip of Marsala
So that the rambling, sky-dropped grape can add its savour to yours,
Orphic farewell, and farewell, and farewell
And the ego sum of Dionysos
The somo io of perfect drunkenness
Intoxication of final loneliness.



This one goes out to the one I want. I tried to keep my distance, but a man can only take so much. I had to act. But I made sure to stay discreet. For now. A few stolen moments spent watching never hurt anybody (not that I haven't tried), and if I wanted to take a few mementos to remember you by, could anybody really blame me? I'll keep them to myself for now, maybe later I'll decide to share with the rest of the class.

In Tiny Rented Rooms I Was Struck by Miracles

It's cruel, almost. How often I've been disappointed. Wasted potential, every time. I think I have a real, interesting connection with someone, and it's all for naught. It's downright frustrating the more I think about it. One night stands are great fun for the whole family, but after a while you can't help but want something substantial. Something with which you can really take your time. Quite frankly I'm tired with all these people that I know I'm going to forget about come the morning after, regradless of how well that night goes. A bunch of vacuous argonauts, the lot of them.

But then, you see that... that someone. Either for the first time, or you just see them in a new light, and they're all you can think about. I was sitting in the motel room, idly sifting through the dreary mess of the people with whom I work, and I saw it. A vision of pure, unadulturated clarity. In a tiny rented room I was struck by a miracle. Obviously, the way to play this is to keep cool for now. Level headedness is always the way to go. I'm excited to get started, to be sure, but I can wait. I can wait until the stars burn out if need be. Still, I'd rather not wait longer than I have to for our paths to cross.

Unfortunately, for now, I'll just have to be patient. It's one of my most dominant traits, so I know I can handle it. I'll bide my time, and I'll wait until we're in the ring together. Then I can properly get things started between us. If you're there now, and if you're reading this, hold tight. I'm coming for you.

Good Vibrations

A natural disaster. Mass destruction. Countless dead. And that's how we measure the weight of a disaster isn't it? By the number of the dead. Makes me curious. Why the dead? Why is it that the number of lives taken is what makes one disaster worse than another? It's a cheap system constructed by people who have no sense of suffering, of anything they can't simply and coldly quantify.

It's not how many died that tells us how terrible a disaster is. The number of dead is just that. A number. You want to know how really terrible an event is? You don't look at the dead. You look at the survivors. They're the ones who know the disaster better than anybody. The dead are gone. Their suffering is over. The ones who live are the ones who suffer . It's the ones who live who feel the full weight of the disaster.

Tell me how many died, you aren't telling me a thing. I don't deal in quantification. I deal in what's real. What I can feel. Numbers don't mean a thing to me. Suffering, now that's something I can wrap my head around. Tell me how many people it hurt. Tell me how many families it ruined. Lives destroyed, but not taken. That's a disaster. That's tragedy. You can keep the numbers.

Before the Lights Come On

Suffice to say I'm quite interested in today's ACW show. It's the last show before I show up. I'll be there, of that you can be sure. I won't make my presence known, no front row seats, no backstage chicanery, cryptic messages, nothing like that. I'll be doing exactly what I've been doing. Merely watching. For now.

But the show's not for hours. Makes a guy feel restless. I've considered loitering around the arena, but there will be time for that later. There should be some fan events around town, there usually are, and they're usually a decent source of amusement. I may visit one of those yet, one last time to do so without people knowing who I am.

Still, it leaves hours to kill - if you'll pardon the expression. So much time. So little to do. But I'm sure I can think of something.